A World of People
by ApplePajama
Summary: Imagine a world where countries are people. The battles are bigger. The others, your friend's or enemies? - Where wars are personal and where history comes alive. Meet the countries. Meet the world. Meet their demons.


**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia. Some of you might find the words in italics to be familiar. Truth be told, this was inspired by a video from approximately a year ago that I watched in Youtube. I don't remember the title nor can I find the video again. If you do find it, then please notify me so I can give proper credits to the owner. By the way, some or most of the things written here are more or less historically accurate.**

* * *

 _Imagine a world…_

"It's very peaceful," a blond girl with a blue ribbon tied on her bob-cut hair remarked as she admired the peacefulness of the Alps during a picnic with her older brother. Her similarly blond brother just nodded in agreement as he absorbed the tranquil environment of Switzerland. A serene silence engulfed the siblings as they relaxed amidst the fresh air and quiet surroundings of their location.

"I'd like for us to stay like this forever, Bruder," she says to break the silence. As if on cue, a cool breeze passed as they stared at the picturesque scene before them. Her brother merely closed his eyes absorbing all the tranquility that the Alps could offer and, with a relaxed face, he said "I'd like that too."

… _where countries…_

"Excuse me. Is this ship sailing for London, da?" a man with light beige-brown haired man asked an old, mustached captain of the ship docked at the harbor. The captain raised an eyebrow and looked at the traveler from head to toe. He observed that the traveler must have originated from a rich family after seeing that everything he wore looked either expensive or well-maintained. He took it upon himself to instruct the young man on how things worked for commoners.

"Yes, comrade," the captain answered, "If you want to board this ship, then I suggest that you or your servant will purchase a ticket from the terminal." The man merely smile and showed the contents of an opened letter to the captain. The captain gasped after reading the letter and the young man suddenly took the parchment from the former's hands. "I believe that this is sufficient enough to be a ticket, da."

"O-of course, Sir. Please come aboard. It's an honor to have you on-board with us," the poor man spoke as he cowered under the pressure of the presence of the man before him.

… _are people._

"Thank you for going out of your way to attend this meeting in London, gentlemen. For the sake of formalities, we will introduce ourselves to one another," a man with a British accent said as he stood tall and proud in front of four other people present in the meeting room. Just when he was about to speak again, one of the attendees cut him to the chase.

"Look, we already know who is who, so let's cut to the chase," a loud voice, which came from a blond, energetic, young man wearing glasses over his blue eyes, suggested nonchalantly. The British man's face started to contort to that of annoyance. He calmed himself for the situation demanded it.

"It is rude for someone to interrupt while a person is talking. We should be serious during grave situations like this. This is not like one of those civil wars in the past. This is a bloody world war, the second one for the love of my beloved Queen Elizabeth. If we do not put our minds into this, the war will not be the only thing that we will lose."

"Just start the meeting already, aru," an Asian-looking man said impatiently. The said man faced the glasses wearing person and said, "Don't do that again unless you want a sermon." The energetic young man shrugged and raised both of his hand to signify his surrender.

"I appreciate that," the British man said, appreciating the Asian for calming the situation. He continued "As I was saying, let us introduce ourselves. Since it is only proper for the host country to start, I shall initiate the introductions. I am the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland. You may address me as Britain."

The glasses wearing man suddenly stood up. "I'm the United States of America, a.k.a. America, for short. I will definitely be the hero of this war!" America heroically laughed and only sat down when Britain started giving out warnings for the American.

Suddenly, the room started to smell like roses and wine. All of the people present turned to the only person they thought that this scent could have originated from. Keeping quiet all this time was an extravagantly attired, blond man with a French accent. Britain cringed in annoyance. "Ohonhonhonhon…" the Frenchman laughed. "I am the beautiful country of love, France, or, better yet, amour itself."

"Well, I agree that you're an 'it' and not a 'he'."

"Britain, why do you hate me so? I am the country of love; therefore, the world is destined to only give me love."

"In your dreams, frog."

"Ohonhonhon… I suggest that you take that back."

A sigh was heard coming from the only Asian person in the room. "Why are you westerners so bent on fighting. Why don't the two of you just sit down and eat some of the dumplings I brought."

"Those will only make us hungrier!" both shouted, obviously refusing the Asian's offered. The Asian cringed on the rejection and shrugged. "Anyway, I hailed from the East. I am China."

The room suddenly turned cold and an aura emanated from a light beige-brown hair man. Britain nodded in recognition to the man and the latter introduced himself. "I'm Russia. I'm so glad that I get to take part in this, da. It makes me feel like I'm part of the gang." Everyone started to move away from the Russian.

"All right," Britain said to call everyone's attention away from Russia's maleficent aura. "Now that introduction has been settled, without further ado, let us conduct our strategy meeting against our enemy, the Axis."

 _The battles are bigger…_

"Yo, West!" an albino soldier called in the middle of the night for a blond soldier carrying a riffle at the end of a German camp in Russian soil. The person referred to as "West" turned around, completely aware of whoever was calling him. "Bruder," the blond man said in recognition.

The albino threw a flask at West, who caught it effortlessly with his freehand. West opened the flask and the stench of beer drifted into his nose. He cringed, knowing that this was neither the time nor place for a drink. "It won't help much, unlike the vodka those Russians make, but at least you'll be a little warmer." West nodded in appreciation and took a drink from the flask. Aside from the shifting snow that troops in patrol duty make and the regular snore of sleeping soldiers, the night was quiet as the two brothers stared at the distance.

West shifted his feet and faced his brother. "It's my turn to keep watch. Why don't you go back to the barracks to rest?" To his surprise, his brother looked wide awake and alert. His brother shook his head to decline.

"Nein. I can't sleep; not with this anxiety that I've been feeling since the sun came down."

West started to feel a little worried. "Bruder?" he called, to make sure what he heard was true.

His brother never took his eyes off from the distance as if he were trying to see what was beyond the darkness. "It's as if someone is watching our every move." Like on cue, gunshots were heard on the other side of camp. The brothers flicked their heads toward camp and orders like, "The Russians are coming! Prepare yourselves!"

Without warning, West started running towards the camp to join the soldiers who were already battling it out on the field. Suddenly a firm hand grabbed West's arm like iron and stopped him from moving any closer to the camp. He turned around to see who stopped him and he came face to face with his own brother. "Where do you think you're going, huh, West?"

"Where else but to where my soldiers are fighting?!" West said, over the sounds of bullets being fired.

"Look, you can't just jump into the field without thinking. We both know that you're already aware of that. What's making you think so irrationally?"

West was silent.

"I have a better idea," his brother spoke. "This will surely make those Russians run for the hills. However," he looked at West right in the eyes and continued, "It'll take a lot of our already scarce soldiers to get ourselves out of this mess."

"Bruder!" West shouted out of disagreement. Suddenly, a Germen messenger came running towards them, coming from the direction where the German soldiers came from when they entered Russian soil and situated on their location for a camp. The messenger came all exhausted and took a deep breath before breaking the news of whatever message he had for West.

"The Americans! The Americans are coming from the other side!"

This was something that West dreaded all these time. They were sandwiched between two enemy troops. They were literally sitting ducks right now. West couldn't wrap his mind around the situation they were in.

"Come on, West!" his brother snapped him out of his daze. "You don't have much time. You don't have to listen to me if you don't want to, but, at times like this, you don't have much of a choice." His brother beckoned him to make a choice already. At that moment, West knew what he had to do.

"Ja, Bruder. I'll hear you out," West said with resolve in his eyes.

"West?"

"As long as we get even just a meager chance to turn this situation around, then I will do anything to get that chance. There's no such thing as too much in the situation that we're in, not when we're in the middle of a world war."

Prussia merely smirked.

 _The others, your friends or enemies…_

France chuckled. He knew that being tied and being guarded in his own house is no laughing matter, but what else he can do when he is being taken prisoner in his own land. The only thing he knew that would uplift his situation is by talking to his Italian captor. "Of all people, I did not expect for you to capture me, Italy."

The Italian paused from eating his pasta and shifted his focus on his French prisoner. "Veh, I'm sorry big brother France, but Germany told me to do my best, so I did."

France frowned at what he just heard. He wanted to know more and find a way to get himself out of the Italian's guard. "Italy, why are you doing this?"

"It's because Germany said that he needed help for this. Veh, Germany is my friend so it's only natural for me to help him out."

France felt skeptical on what Italy said and raised an eyebrow. "Germany is your friend?"

"Si." Italy answered as a matter of fact.

France saw an opportunity in this, so he jumped right through it. "Then shouldn't you stop him instead of helping him?" Italy's eyes went wide like saucers. France saw this as a gesture to continue. "A real friend stops his comrades from doing anything they regret later on. Germany will only listen to whatever that dictator says. You, as his friend, have to snap him out of it before things get out of hand and ultimately lead him to breakage. If you really are his friend, it's your duty to stop him from doing this to his self. So, what do you say, Italy? Think about it." The things France said initiated one of those rare occasions where Italy looked thoughtful.

 _Where wars are personal…_

"I want to have my independence," America said to Britain in the latter's office. For the first time since America entered the room, the sounds of a pen scratching the surface of paper stopped. Britain looked up from his work and plastered a forced smile on his face.

"Pardon?" Britain said, resting his chin on his hands. "I haven't quite heard what you said, lad. May you repeat that for me, please?"

"I said I wanted to have my independence," America said with less conviction compared to the first time after feeling that the room suddenly felt colder and more unnerving.

"Well, you can't have it," Britain said, losing interest on what America had to say.

"What? Why not?"

"Because I say so. You will remain as a British colony, understand?"

America wanted to have a reasonable explanation on Britain's part and maybe then he will understand. After hearing what his colonizer said, America felt anger welling up inside him. That was the last straw for the American. He slammed his hands on Britain's desk and caused some of the paperwork to fall from the table. "I've had it with you always telling me what to do, you insulting me and my people and you purging my natives!"

"Then live with it." Britain's nonchalant reply only fueled America to go through with his goal.

"If you don't give me my independence," America gritted his teeth, "then I will fight for it."

This time, Britain stood up from his chair and looked at America in the eyes. America felt uncomfortable and a small seed of fear started to grow in his mind, but he kept his ground and never backed down. "Fight for it, you say?" Britain said with fire in his emerald eyes. "Are you sure you want to challenge me, the British Empire, in a battlefield?" Britain started to chuckle, which turned into a maleficent laughter.

America shifted his footing from his place, not knowing what to do in a situation like this. Britain focused on the young man in front of him and, like a switch of a lightbulb, the Englishman's mood shifted into that of a strict and serious demeanor. "You'll only end up like an injured puppy begging for its wounds to be treated!"

 _Where history comes alive…_

"2000 years ago?" Italy asked a man who looked a lot like him while the former was cooking pasta for both of them. He continued, "If I'm not mistaken, Grandpa Rome was still alive back then. Veh, Fratello, I really miss the times when we were with him."

"Humph! You think you're the only one?" Italy's brother said as he looked away to avoid eye contact with his younger brother. "He always came home from his conquests, but, when he didn't come home for a very long time, we knew that we were never going to see him again. He didn't even say goodbye, that bastard," his brother said as his voice started to waver.

"Romano…"

 _Meet the countries…_

In a huge conference room in New York, USA, the area was bustling with people coming from different continents around the world. Few were Asian, but most were from the continents on the west side of the map. A person went up the only podium of the room and called for everyone's attention. "I humbly welcome you all, ladies, gentlemen and, lastly but certainly not the least, countries, to our first ever United Nations Summit."

 _Meet the world…_

"I know that all of you must still be recovering from the damages ravaged during the Second World War," the man known as Mr. United Nations spoke. There were whispers travelling inside the room which made the room feel more suffocating than usual. Mr. United Nations looked at a nation known as Norway for a little support, but the country merely gave him a nod and a thumbs-up. He cleared his throat to help him relax amidst all the countries that still felt the tensions from the war.

"Speaking of recovering," he said, grabbing the attention of all the nations present. "How are you feeling, Poland?"

Poland grumbled some Polish curses and finally said, "I'll make all your capitals Warsaw!"

"Still as energetic as ever," Mr. United Nations remarked, surprised at Poland's declaration. "Anyway, everyone, please make yourselves acquainted with each other as we work our way through to regain world peace."

 _Meet their demons…_

"Japan-sama, everything has been prepared. We wait for your orders, Sir," a young soldier said as he bowed to the man known as Japan, who was meditating in quiet room in their headquarters. Japan stood up from his seat and faced the messenger.

"Raise your head," Japan said and the messenger lifted his head slowly. Then, Japan commanded with the tone of a general, "Commence the attack on Pearl Harbor."

"Hai!" the messenger made a quick bow and left to disseminate the command to the others.

Japan sat down once again on his seat and started to tremble… and then came laughter. "Ha. There's no way I'll let kids do whatever they want in this world. The Greater East Asia Co-Prosperity Sphere is finally within my reach."

A few hours later, on the other side of the world, Americans panicked as their military base in Hawaii was bombed by the Japanese.

"Pearl Harbor is under attack! I repeat, Pearl Harbor is under attack."

~o~o~o~o~o~

"The Jews?" West repeated.

"Ja, Meister Germany. He wants all the Jews in this area to be executed by tomorrow and put the corpses in one big pile to be buried in a pit on the outskirts of town."

West, also known as Germany, lowered his hat and nodded. "I see. I'll tend to that after I give my orders to the infantry."

~o~o~o~o~o~

"Signore Veneziano!" a panicked Italian navy called out. Italy turned away from the map lain out on a table during a strategy meeting with some of his naval leaders. "Enemies are coming from the southern sea!"

"Veeeeh!" Italy flailed his arms and ran around the room as if it were the end of the world. The people he was having a meeting with were not amused by his antics. Italy stopped on his tracts and smiled to those who were in command with the Italian navy. "That was not a very smart move, was it, gentlemen?" The commanders merely nodded in silent agreement. "They should have realized that I am not the same when it comes to naval warfare. Ready the fleets!" Italy commanded as he headed for the door. Then, a hand stopped him from advancing farther. He turned to identify whoever stopped him and saw that Romano was the culprit.

"I'll be the one in command this time," Romano said with conviction. "I know the South better than you do. This is something that I am definitely not useless at."

Italy's face lightened up. "Veh~. Si, Fratello. In that case, I'll look out for more attacks coming from the mainland." With that, Italy left the room to head for the Italian infantry that was waiting for orders."

Romano turned around to face the commanders of the Italian navy. With a smirk plastered on his face, he said, "All right, men! Prepare to make history! We're about to make a literal Red Sea."

~o~o~o~o~o~

"Surrender, Japan," America commanded as the wind blew with the stench of blood and gunpowder lingering in the air. America was holding a gun pointed on Japan's forehead. "All of the Axis Powers had already given up, except for you."

The Asian nation chuckled as if nothing in the world worried him. He raised his head to look at America in the eyes and smirked. "Seppuko sounds better than surrender."

* * *

 **Author's Notes:**

 **About Norway, based on my research, the first UN secretary-general was Norwegian. This is why Mr. UN was trying to get support from Norway.**

 **If you have any questions for me, I'll be glad to answer them for you.**

 **Thanks for reading!**

 **P.S. If any of you notice that I made a mistake with regards to my grammar and spelling, I will really appreciate your correction. I am not a native speaker of English, so mistakes here and there are inevitable.**

 **Edit (10/16/15): Just edited the information about the part where Prussia appeared. Please tell me if I got other things wrong. :)**


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